


Meeting Andrew.  1/1.

by punky_96



Series: Meeting Andrew [1]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Crossdressing, F/F, Genderfluid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:06:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.Andrew goes out on Tuesdays, what happens when Emily can’t deliver the book?Written for k. bingo prompt crossdressing.  So the erotic focus is the cross-dressing, not the follow through as it were.





	Meeting Andrew.  1/1.

_**Meeting Andrew**_  
  
The house creaked and groaned from time to time. Miranda knew the sounds of her empty townhouse even when they were drowned by the sounds of children and dog. The ticking of the clock in the hallway kept time in her life like a metronome. She had no need of music during her quiet times of work, her life was already filled with the hum of too many projects in the first place.  
  
The door opened at ten thirty and Miranda more felt it than heard it.  
  
Having not seen her assistant in three days, because of a variety of meetings, errands, and Irv Ravtiz, Miranda rose and stepped out into the hallway. Her bare feet stepped in between the sound of heavy steps in her hall and then kitchen. The closet door opened in front of her and not holding back her curiosity, Miranda continued forward flipping on the switch for the hall. For a moment she wondered why her assistant’s footsteps sounded so different from their normal click clack.  
  
Black doc martens topped by black leather pants stepped out of Miranda’s closet doorway causing Miranda to gasp and press her hand to the skin of her low V-neck hunter green cashmere sweater. Following the form of the figure up the body, Miranda’s hand began to stroke the rapidly heating skin above her cleavage. Her assistant, Andrea, no, Andy Sachs, stood facing her with gleaming wide brown eyes and a surprised look of her own. The leather pants did not hug the skin, the cut was masculine, as was the bulge at the apex of her thighs. Miranda’s fingers curled as she stroked just her fingertips across her hot skin. Andy’s brown eyes almost masked their hunger as they perused Miranda’s low sweater, seductive stroke of her fingers, the dangling tie of her wrap around skirt, and her barefeet. Shifting her weight, Andy placed one hand on her hip before letting it hang loosely to her side. Sucking in a breath of air to hold the impulse to reach out in check, she curled her fingers into a fist.  
  
“Miranda.” Andy breathed out from behind her barely there moustache and goatee.  
  
Knowing that her stance had opened in invitation, Miranda could barely hold back the name from her lips, “Andr—”  
  
Coughing slightly Andy reached out a hand toward her boss, “Andrew.” Feeling the desire rolling off Miranda in waves, Andy couldn’t help the small cocky smile that had developed over the months at the club with Lily. Andy knew the effect this ‘package’ had on women short or tall.  
  
On reflex that sent a tingle down her body, Miranda extended her hand. Andy took it warmly with no hesitation. Gripping it Andy slid their hands until Miranda’s fingers pressed against Andy's bare lips. The distance between them was a little too far and Miranda was forced to take a half step as she breathed in the scent of Andy’s cologne.  
  
“Sorry for showing up like this.” Andy smiled as his free hand motioned at the outfit. Lowering their joined hands, Andy stroked his thumb across the back of Miranda’s hand. “I know it’s not Runway, but Emily usually covers Tuesdays.” Andy stepped back letting Miranda’s hand drop.  
  
When Miranda said nothing, Andy stepped back again and again. Reaching the door, the leather clad legs bent and a hand scooped up a motorcycle helmet. With one final look at the beautiful, enigmatic figure of Miranda Priestly, Andy swept out the door closing it firmly. The click of the lock spurred Miranda forward.  
  
Stepping to the door, unbolting it and whipping it open, Miranda felt the cold air up her skirt and teasing her soaked panties. She was too late. A navy blue ninja motorcycle pulled away from the curb following her normal Mercedes. Sighing heavily, Miranda closed the door and leaned back against it.  
  
Outside at a red light, Andy thought how lovely it would have been to pull the tie of Miranda’s skirt, slip hands up under Miranda's cashmere sweater, and tease her panties before pulling them down to her ankles and kissing all the way back up. Vibrating against the seat of the motorcycle, Andy's sex clenched against the base of the cock. Andy thought about turning around, going back up the townhouse steps, and slipping inside. Andy thought about how warm Miranda’s skin would feel. Her blush had crept heatedly up her body from her breasts to the tips of her ears. Andy yearned to touch her.  
  
The light turned green and Andy revved the engine.  
  
Inside the townhouse, Miranda let her body press hard against the door, glad she was home alone tonight. She stroked her fingertips against the V-neck above her breasts feeling her nipples tighten against the fuzzy fabric covering them. She longed for Andy’s hands to slip across her hips, slide under the sweater and pull it and her arms up, baring her. Pinning her hands against the wood, Andy’s lips would burn her skin as they kissed a trail down her body. Andy's hands would follow, the pads of smooth fingertips tickling as they slipped down Miranda’s arms, palming her breasts, and then at last pulling the tie of her wrap skirt until it fluttered to the floor. The image of herself against the door with her arms above her head and her body open and naked made Miranda cry out with want. She bit the back of her hand against the raging desire flooding through her. “Damn.” Miranda whispered as she forcibly pulled herself together, “What a night to not wear panties.”  
  
Days ticked by as they do. Awkwardness, tension, and desire all ebbed and flowed during the rest of the week. Each did the best they could to dismiss it, while they focused on the swirl of life preparing for the next deadline. It was hard not to think about it though. Black leather, motorcycles, the book delivery, eye contact, hands brushing, or a cocky smile… Any of a hundred details could trigger a response from either of the women, and, sometimes, both at the same time. During those moments their eyes would catch, fingers would flex or stroke, and it was a close thing to finally acknowledging this ever present and building desire between them.  
  
Tuesday came again. Calling for her things, Miranda savored the press of Andrea’s hands as they slipped her coat onto her shoulders. Turning on the spot, Miranda took the half step needed to whisper in Andy’s ear. Andy’s arms were still outstretched and it was all she could do to not wrap them around Miranda right then and there. “Bring the book tonight, Andrew.” The sultry tone of Miranda’s whisper tickled Andy’s earlobe and it was a close thing for Andy to hold back and keep a relaxed posture.  
  
**The End.**


End file.
